


The Revelations of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger

by hopefulrqinbows



Series: The Revelations [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Anxiety, Background Linny, Background Relationships, Black Hermione Granger, Depression, F/F, Fanon Pansy Parkinson, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts, I like to think I'm funny, M/M, Post-War, background deamus - Freeform, hermione's so confused, i started this months ago but didn't think it was good enough to post, i'm sorry i'm still new to this whole thing, neville and theo are THAT couple yknow, not canon, now i'm just like 'whatever', pansy's like some kinda dominatrix, this is going to be the first of many fics based on different people if it's well received
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulrqinbows/pseuds/hopefulrqinbows
Summary: Hermione hadn't been sure if she should go back to Hogwarts for her eighth year as the Ministry had sent her a letter saying they'd be happy to have her work for them, with or without her NEWT qualifications. But when she realised what a bad state her best friend was in, she was glad she had accepted Professor McGonagall's invitation.(I'm still new to writing fanfiction that isn't about original characters, so bear with me!)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom/Theodore Nott
Series: The Revelations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679323
Comments: 7
Kudos: 93





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione hadn't been sure if she should go back to Hogwarts for her eighth year as the Ministry had sent her a letter saying they'd be happy to have her work for them, with or without her NEWT qualifications. But when she realised what a bad state her best friend was in, she was glad she had accepted Professor McGonagall's invitation. Ron wasn't there. He'd gone straight into Auror training, as a way to distract himself from his brother's death. The last time they had spoken, Hermione could tell it was helping him, as he sounded much happier.

The same could not be said for Harry.

There had been a long break before term started again, as the castle needed to be rebuilt to its original glory. When the letter for that news had come through, Harry had ignored it. Well, he hadn't even read it. The post from all of his 'fans' had begun piling up at the door, but the chosen one could simply not bring himself to read them. So, instead, he went to bed and never got up again.

It was only when Hermione got back from Australia after getting her parents that he even ate anything.

Hermione remembered that morning well. She had managed to restore her parents' memories, much to her relief, and had sent Harry an owl to tell him she was coming over. After apparating to a small clearing near 13 Grimmauld Place, expecting to have the place reveal itself to her, but to her surprise it was already there. The charms that all the Order members have placed seemed to have disbanded as each of them died.

She rang the doorbell Arthur Weasley had installed, waiting patiently on the doorstep for her best friend to open the door. Several minutes passed, and, simply assuming Harry had fallen back to sleep, Hermione nudged the door. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. She nudged it again, this time with her shoulder and after another minute or two, the door flew open, hundreds and thousands of letters flew through the air and landed on the floor.

"Harry?" she had called, wading through the river of paper, "Aren't you up yet?"

She had a look around the place. All the hard work Mrs Weasley had put into it was gone, as every surface was coated with dust.

"Harry, I'm going to come upstairs, okay?" she said, loud enough that her voice would carry up to her best friend's room. She was hoping not to awaken the unpleasant portrait that was permanently stuck to the wall.

She walked up the steps and opened the door to Sirius' childhood bedroom. The room didn't smell very refreshing. The stench of sweat and dust clutched the air, making Hermione wrinkle her nose. There were a couple of empty glasses on the bedside table. In the bed, curled up in a ball, was Harry James Potter.

"Harry, love, are you okay?" she asked him, perching on the edge of the bed, "I don't think you've left here in a while, have you?"

"Can't," he muttered, rolling over, "It's- it's all my fault. The war."

"It's not your fault. It was You-Know-Who who started it all, and perhaps Dumbledore's fault too," she said softly, trying not to cry.

When she got no response, Hermione knew that what she was saying wasn't going through to her best friends’ head. She decided to try something else.

"Hasn't anyone come around to check on you?" she asked, not expecting a coherent reply.

"Ginny won't talk to me. Neville and Luna don't know that this place exists."

Ah, Hermione had forgotten about the breakup. 

"I'm sorry I didn't come over sooner. I didn't know how bad the aftermath hit you," she said sadly, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"'s okay, Hermione. You didn't know." the boy muttered. Hermione didn't know what to say to that, because it was her fault. Ron had left and she had left, and Harry must've felt like he had no one.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts this year?" she urged, needing him to speak. To be the Harry she knew and loved, not this shattered shell of a person barely holding on. She wanted him to be better, she wanted him to be happy. 

"I didn't know we could."  
"You must've missed the letter," she said, "I'm going."

Harry perked up a bit at that. "You are?"

"Yeah, the ministry offered me a position, but I thought I should take a break before jumping headfirst into a job."

"I don't know what I want to do."

"Why, Harry?"

"It's always been 'defeat Voldemort'. That's all I needed to do. But now-"

He didn't finish.

"You can do anything you want, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, of course. But perhaps you should take a year, make new friends. Build yourself back up again."

Silence. Then,

"I'll only go because you are."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Hermione smiled. "Let's get packing."

-

“What do you think of the castle, Miss Granger?"

"It's certainly...different.”

The turrets, once made of old stone, were now pure gold. What had been Dumbledore's tower before he died also had a new look, now coloured rainbow. It even appeared to sparkle.

"That was Mr Longbottom," Professor McGonagall told Hermione, after watching her examine it with a bewildered expression on her face, "I let him paint it, and he was feeling... creative." She sounded like she deeply regretted her decision.

"IT'S BECAUSE HE'S GAY!" screamed Theodore Nott, Neville's boyfriend.

"Yes, thank you, Mr Nott," McGonagall sighed, "Though his method of revealing that information seemed rather corrupt, he is not wrong. Mr Longbottom is, in fact, gay."

"That's cool, Neville!" Hermione called out to where the boy had been standing, but he was gone.

“Do not go looking for him,” the professor warned, “You will not like what you see.”

Hermione had a feeling there might’ve been a story behind that. She didn’t ask, though. Perhaps McGonagall had walked in on Neville and Theo doing something she deeply wanted to forget.

“The eighth-year dormitories are down in the dungeons, next to the Slytherin ones.” she continued. “There was an odd number, so one of you won’t have a roommate. I’m not aware of the pairings, so you’ll have to go check the list.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you, Professor,” she said, grabbing Harry’s arm, “We’ll see you at the feast.” 

McGonagall nodded in acknowledgement. “Goodbye, Miss Granger. And you, Mr Potter.”

And with that, she walked away, her heels making a loud clicking sound against the cobblestoned floor.

“Harry?” Hermione pulled his arm again. “We have to go check our dorms now.”

Harry was staring at the astronomy tower with a vacant expression on his face. It wasn’t distraught, exactly, more empty. Like he didn’t know what to feel at all. Hermione turned to look at it too, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“He fell from there.” The boy said finally. 

“Yes. He did.” Hermione joined her hand with his. They stayed like for a while, staring up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set now, a pretty peach colour. She wondered if it was controlled, like the Great Hall. In this little bubble of protection, away from the rest of the world.

She tapped his arm, tugging him slightly. “We’ve got to go, now.”

People were going to wonder where they were, and turning up late would give Harry and unnecessary amount of attention.

This time, Harry did not resist.


	2. Chapter 2

The feast went by quickly, and for some reason, Hermione wasn’t as haunted as she’d thought she’d be.

Harry wasn’t paying attention, staring vacantly at the same spot on the table. He hadn’t eaten anything, but Hermione had learnt not to make him. Usually, he’d eat a little later, so she grabbed a couple of the bread rolls and slipped them into her robe pocket.

There were now five tables in the Great Hall. Another had been added to cater to the eighth years, as the school was already at capacity each year when it came to the seating. It didn’t even phase her, sitting at a table with the Slytherins that had tormented her for years. They’d lost people, too. They were all on the same page now. What did phase her was when she discovered who she was sharing with. When she first read it, she thought perhaps she’d seen it wrong. Then that it was a mistake in the printing. But no, she was actually sharing a room with Pansy Parkinson, who she’d had a crush on for about two years.

What could go wrong there?

“Look, Granger, I don’t like it any more than you do but it is was it is. Stop making a big deal out of it.”

Pansy was too perfect to be real. She had short, black hair that stopped at her jawline, that was so sharp it could cut someone. She had a fringe and was quite pale, with full lips that looked extremely kissable. Hermione would know, as she stared at them a lot.

She hadn’t known what to think of Pansy, after the stunt she pulled before the battle. She tried to stop thinking about her, but it was no use. Pansy was always there, at the front of her mind.

“I didn’t want Harry to be alone,” she said softly.

McGonagall had mentioned that there was an odd number of students, so someone would be alone in their room. Unfortunately, Harry had ended up being that person, and he refused to believe it was random. Hermione couldn’t blame him; it was too much of a coincidence that it was the-boy-who-lived got to have a room to himself. 

Pansy rolled her eyes, checking her nails as if she’d rather be anywhere else. “He’ll be fine, Granger. It’s not like you two can’t be apart for five minutes.”

Hermione didn’t tell Pansy about any of Harry’s problems, because honestly, it was none of her business. Instead, she bit her tongue and nodded slowly. It was only for a year, and then they’d all go their separate ways.

Harry would be fine.

\- 

A couple of weeks passed, and Hermione had developed a routine. She checked on Harry every day, collected work for him and made sure he was eating. Every time she thought about how exhausted she felt, she thought about how he must feel having to deal with all that shit in his head.

Hermione pulled the spare key to Harry’s dorm room from her dressing gown pocket and opened it slowly, making sure it didn’t creek. It was just after seven, and no one else had risen yet.

She tiptoed over to Harry’s bed and sat down slowly at the edge of it. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Harry, are you getting up today?” she asked quietly.

“No.”

“Okay. That’s okay. I’ll be back with your work later, alright? You can have a go at it then.”

She rose from his bedside and crept back to her and Pansy’s room, which was just down the corridor. The dorms reminded her very much of what she thought muggle university must look like. They had their own kitchen and laundry room so they were all independent. It also meant they didn’t need to go down to the Hall if they didn’t want to.

Pansy had never caught her checking on Harry so far this year, and she planned to keep it that way. When anyone asked, she said he was ill and would be up soon. Truthfully, she didn’t know if he’d ever get up again.

The first few days had been okay. He had gotten up, gone to his classes, studied, even laughed. But all the work and the interaction had drained him quickly, and now Harry was back to how he had been before.

Hermione tried her best to get him up again, but it was draining her too. She had researched about depression a bit, and the only thing that helped was time.

Once she was dressed, she decided she’d go to the Great Hall for breakfast, which was what she’d been doing a lot recently. She couldn’t stand staying in a small space with her crush for too long.

Making sure her bag was packed, she headed towards the hall. 

She sat alone, as usual. If she were allowed, she would’ve sat with Ginny at the Gryffindor table, but there were other seventh years there that she didn't know. Neville was also an option, but she wasn’t keen on third-wheeling with him and Theo. Besides, they both usually sat with Pansy and the other Slytherins, which Hermione knew would be really awkward.

It was only when Harry and Ron were gone that Hermione realised how little friends she had. She’d never made an effort to befriend the other girls in her year, as they weren’t as academically driven as she was. She was starting to regret not even trying.

Bored, she found her eyes wandering to the big, ancient doors that every student walked through. There, arguing, were Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy. He seemed to be trying to convince her to do something she wasn’t keen on.

Finally, they stopped bickering and Pansy walked over to where she was sitting. Hermione quickly flicked her eyes back to her book, praying that neither of the Slytherins saw her looking.

The girl sat across from her casually, pulling a bottle of black varnish from her pocket. She opened it and began painting her nails. After a long minute of staring intently, Hermione cleared her throat.

“Hello, Pansy. How may I help you?”

“Well, you sit alone. And Draco thought it would be brilliant to invite you to sit with us.” 

Hermione frowned slightly, thinking it over. She decided she could go one breakfast without being awkward around Pansy if she really concentrated.

“Okay, sure! Where do you guys sit?” she asked. Pansy’s eyes widened in surprise. She probably hadn’t been expecting a positive answer.

“Well, since you and I are already here…” she paused for a moment, scanning the room. “Ah, there they are. Boys! Over here!”

Hermione turned around to see Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy walking over. Theo was hand in hand with Neville.

“Hello. Hermione accepted.” Pansy said shortly, glaring at Malfoy, who only smirked in response.

“You’re on a first-name basis?” Neville said, his jaw dropped. “Theo and I have been dating for MONTHS and she still calls me Longbottom!”

“Sorry, honey, maybe next year,” Pansy replied, turning back to her nails. 

Theo leaned his head on Neville’s shoulder. “She’s joking, babe. Well, I think she is. It’s hard to tell with Pansy."

Draco launched himself next to Hermione, apparently preparing for an interrogation. He seemed… different. Less childish, but happier. She knew he’d been miserable for all of their sixth year of Hogwarts, so she was glad he was okay again.

He’d changed his whole aesthetic when he’d come out as gay in the first week of term. His hair was now permanently messy, he wore eyeliner, and his nails were painted black. When he wasn’t in class, Draco was seen wearing lots of band shirts and ripped jeans.

“So, how’s it going, Hermione?” he said, resting his head on his chin as he stared at her intently.

“Well, Malfoy-”

“Call me Draco.”

“Alright then, Draco. I’m alright, apart from…”

Her voice trailed off. She had hoped it would be forgotten, but everyone had gone quiet.

“What? Except for what?” Theo asked. Hermione sent Neville a pleading look. He nodded discreetly and whispered something in Theo’s ear. The boy’s eyes widened. 

“Of course, it’s none of our business--”

“No, what is it?” Blaise asked, leaning forward.

“It’s Potter, isn’t it?” Draco said quietly. “I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

She was mildly surprised that Draco had even noticed, but that wasn't the point. After debating whether she should tell them the truth, Hermione decided she would. They all seemed to genuinely want to make amends properly, and they had apologised briefly at the beginning of the year.

“Yes, yes it is. He’s-” she took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “He’s very depressed. I try and help him, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he looked like he might cry. From whatever reaction Hermione had expected, sobbing had not been on her radar.

“You should speak to McGonagall. She must know where we could get him a therapist or something.” Blaise suggested.

Hermione liked how he said ‘we’ as if she had already been accepted into this new group of friends without the blink of an eye.

“Well, we all have Transfiguration first, don’t we? You can ask her after class.” Theo said, finishing his toast.

“Speaking of class, it’s nine. We better get going.” Pansy stood up, screwing the lid back on her varnish. She turned to Hermione. “You have lovely nails. If you’d like me to paint them, let me know,” she whispered in her ear, before walking out towards the doors.

Hermione found herself having to take a moment before she could follow after her new friends.


	3. Chapter 3

“Alright, can everyone sit down now? Thank you. Mr Nott, if you do not stop biting your lip at Mr Longbottom so help me I will move you. Miss Parkinson, please stop painting your nails, I think you’ve done enough coats for one day.”

Although she was now Headmistress, Professor McGonagall had decided to remain a teacher. She only taught the eighth years, because as Professor Flitwick told her constantly, ‘You’re old now, Minerva.’

“Put that mirror away! This is Transfiguration, not a beauty salon!”

It was exactly 36 weeks until she retired to the Bahamas with her cats. Hermione knew this because the Professor thought it was necessary to remind them of every lesson.

Time passed quickly, with the usual referrals of Theo and Seamus for ‘inappropriate behaviour’. Hermione had been mustering up the courage to ask McGonagall for help the whole hour, clenching her fists under the table. As soon as the class was dismissed, she walked up to the Professor’s desk. 

“For the last time, Miss Parkinson, you can’t- Oh, Miss Granger, it’s you, Thank Merlin,” McGonagall said, looking up from a pile of papers.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you could help me, Professor.”

“I can try. What seems to be the issue?” As she said this, McGonagall stared at Hermione intently.

“It’s Harry. I think he’s depressed.” 

There was a pause as McGonagall seemed to think over what she just said. “Have you tried a cheering charm, Miss Granger?”

Hermione knew it was something deeper than that, but she didn’t want to displease the teacher. “Of course. I’m afraid it might be more serious.”

“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will have a remedy for his sadness. Perhaps a potion, or a spell-”

“I think he might need therapy, Professor.”

“Miss Granger, he is a wizard. He doesn’t need therapy with all the magical remedies we have now.”

“But-“

“The school does not have the budget for a therapist, it would be a waste. I thought better of you.”

Hermione swallowed, turned around and went to walk out the door. As she reached it, she suddenly had a burst of courage. “Sometimes magic can’t fix everything, Professor,” she said, before slamming the door behind her.

-

Hermione tapped on Harry’s door with her right hand, leaning against it lightly. Her other hand was clutching his work for the day.

“Harry? Harry, I have your work here. You decent?”

There was no response. She waited patiently, thinking that perhaps he couldn’t quite bring himself to answer, or he was trying to get out of bed. He could be asleep, as he’d told her that insomnia kept him up all the time.

After another minute, she creaked open the door slightly, expecting to see Harry curled up in bed. Instead, the four-poster was empty. The sheets were tucked in neatly, and a lot of the clothes that had been piling up on the floor was gone. Hermione’s heart leapt. Perhaps he’d gone out because he was feeling better.

Just as she had placed his work down on the desk, she thought she could hear the sound of running water, and the muffled sounds of sobbing. 

The bathroom door was only a few centimetres away, but Hermione rushed over anyway. “Harry,” she shouted, “Are you okay?”

She got no response, except for the sound of more crying. She debated going in, purely because she wasn’t sure what state he was in and what clothes, if any he would be wearing. Then she realised how ridiculous that was and opened the door.

“You decent?” she said, echoing her words from earlier. She covered her eyes as she stepped inside.

She peaked out from behind her fingers when she thought she saw a nod. Harry was sitting down, fully dressed, with the shower running around him. His brown curls stuck down to his forehead, his eyes staring vacantly at the wall in front of him.

Hermione knelt in front of him, moving the curtain out of the way and shutting off the water.

“Hey,” she said softly, “How’d you end up here, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, his eyes not moving, his expression unwavering.

“You got your room tidy, your bed made… I think maybe you tried so much so fast. Baby steps, remember?”

“Yeah.” 

Hermione smiled at him, trying to look positive. “I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. I have a sandwich in my bag if you want it.”

“Not hungry.”

She sighed. She couldn’t force him to eat, but it wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t.

“I’ll leave it on your bed, then you can have it if you want it,” she concluded, after several minutes of silence.

Then she stood up, promising to be back in a minute. She grabbed a shirt, some shorts and a towel from his drawers, immediately dashing back to the bathroom.   
Harry had not moved. He was still curled up, looking at the wall. Hermione wondered what he was thinking about.

“C’mon Harry.” she whispered, “Then you can get back to bed.”

He complied eventually, after several attempts. She wasn’t sure why, but at that moment Hermione felt like punching Dumbledore in the face.

Once he was dressed, Harry shuffled over to his four-poster, lying down immediately to stare at the ceiling. She didn't know if she could leave him in this state, but she had so many things to get done. She thought about what Ron would do in this situation. She'd owled him a few days ago to tell about how Harry was but hadn't gotten a response yet. He'd never been that good at handling emotions, usually quite awkward when it came to comforting people. Maybe with his best friend, it would be different.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little short, sorry. I think as time goes on and the story fleshes out a bit more that the chapters will get longer.

While walking back to her dorm, Hermione’s mind would not stop overflowing with thoughts of what Harry could do at any minute she was away from him. He had access to knives, razors, matches…

She shook her head and stared at the ground, willing her legs to move faster. She didn’t even notice Pansy until she walked right into her. 

“Oh, sorry-” she said immediately but had to stop mid-sentence when she looked up because _oh my god she's so hot- ___

__“Don’t worry,” Pansy frowned at her, “Are you okay? Is it Potter?”_ _

__“I’ve got to go-” Hermione tried to move past, but the other girl was taller and quicker._ _

__“Look, I’m not going to force you to say anything, but if you want to come out for drinks with me and the others tonight you can. It may help your stress.”_ _

__Hermione was in desperate need of a stress reliever._ _

__“Okay,” she said, then immediately felt guilty. Drinks meant staying out incredibly late, and she wanted to be on speed-dial in case Harry needed her._ _

__Pansy saw her face and softened. “Potter will be fine. I’m guessing you’ve just visited him, and he’s gone to sleep, yeah?”_ _

__Hermione nodded, still unable to look at her roommate in the eye. He hadn't been awake when she left, after not sleeping for around three days._ _

__“Then he probably won’t be up until six or seven tomorrow, maybe later. He can’t hurt himself asleep.”_ _

__She put out her hand, clearly wanting Hermione to take it._ _

__“Come on, I’ll help you get ready.”_ _

__So she did._ _

__-_ _

__A minidress wasn’t her style, but she felt fierce._ _

__They had gone to a muggle club earlier, with Draco and Blaise pulled along for the ride. Hermione had mostly stood in the corner sipping her drink watching Draco do embarrassing things. According to Pansy, he didn’t hold his liquor well._ _

__Now they were on a hill, high as the sky. Well, the other three were, she was still relatively sober and sensible. Draco had a disturbing twinkle in his eyes, which made Hermione want to run back to the castle and get help. Even Pansy looked concerned._ _

__“Want to play a game?” he said, grinning. Blaise groaned, smacking Draco in the head._ _

__“If you bring up that fucking game one more time-”_ _

__“It’s a good game!”_ _

__“No, it’s shit and you know it-”_ _

__“The only reason you don’t like it is because of that one time when-”_ _

__“Okay, I feel a little out of the loop here,” she muttered to Pansy, who nodded in response._ _

__“Yeah, there's no way you'd know about this. It’s a Slytherin game, so it’s not for the faint-hearted. It’s basically truth or dare but you have to answer any question you’re asked and a dare will be given based on your answer,” she took a swig of beer before continuing, “Like, let’s say someone asked what animal you were most afraid of and you said spiders. You’d have to do a dare related to that, like standing in a cupboard full of them or eating one or something really fucking stupid.”_ _

__For some reason, that didn’t scare Hermione at all. However, she could imagine how much it would scare Ron, with his arachnophobia. Her greatest fear was being a failure, but she wasn’t sure how that would work. She decided that if she was going to play this game, there was no way she could handle it sober._ _

__While Pansy had been explaining this to her, the boys had come to a compromise. They wouldn’t play the game now, with only four people because, as Blaise said, ‘that would be fucking boring’. Instead, they were going to get the word out about a party at their ‘apartment’ tomorrow. Her only thought was that it gave her more time to prepare for the horror of what she knew this game was going to be._ _

__At three, they decided to call it a night. The boys, somehow still containing energy, raced each other down the hill throwing empty beer cans at each other. Hermione, however, was somehow still thinking about Harry. After sitting with her for a couple of minutes, Pansy stood up, offering Hermione her hand._ _

__"C'mon, let's go," she said softly, "We don't want to get into too much trouble."_ _

__Hermione nodded, taking her hand. That was the second time today, trusting Pansy to take the initiative and do what was best. It scared her, a little bit. How much she trusted the Slytherin. If Ron were here, he'd say that she was 'whipped'._ _

__Unfortunately, she couldn't disagree._ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this! it took me a while to complete but i think i'm happy with it

Harry still wasn’t up the next day, but Hermione felt better. Ron had replied to his owl and a note for Harry to read, mostly likely apologising for not being able to get away from Auror training.

She did her usual visit to Harry, leaving the letter on the bedside table along with a mug of coffee. She hadn’t brought up the concept of therapy with him yet, especially after McGonagall’s refusion of letting him have any. However, Hermione also knew that he couldn’t stay like this forever, and the teachers would start looking into it soon. Her interaction with McGonagall had only proved to her that the wizarding world didn’t know how to handle mental health, even if the teacher was a half-blood.

She returned to her dormitory and put the kettle on, just as Pansy came in, still in her dress from the night before. Her face gave Hermione the impression that someone had just died. 

“You okay?” she softly, feeling inclined to hug her but felt unsure if that would be overstepping boundaries.

Pansy wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. “Daph- Daphne went missing yesterday. We think she ran away, there was no note or anything. She said her mum was giving her pressure to marry and I told her that it would be fine, that it would pass, but it didn’t and now she’s gone-”

Before she could say anything else, Hermione decided that overstepping boundaries was appropriate in this situation. Pansy’s body stiffened at the contact, but after thirty seconds of awkward touching, the girl relaxed. They stood there for another minute or so, and Hermione was trying incredibly hard not to think about how nice that smell of roses was.

“Thanks, I needed that,” Pansy said when they eventually pulled away.

“No worries, do you want me to let the professors know that you won’t be in today?”

She wiped her eyes again. “No, no, I’ll go, my attendance has been low lately… besides, as a Slytherin, I don’t get given much respect as it is.”

This was certainly true. Even after all the apologies and promises to be better, Draco still got death threats, Blaise was cornered in hallways and Pansy’s door- their door, really- often got branded with hate speech. Theo and even Neville got pushed around a lot too.

“Alright, if you’re sure… I’ll wait for you, anyway. It doesn’t matter to me if I’m late.”

It mattered very much, but if it was between spending time with Pansy and sitting in a class with McGonagall, Hermione preferred the first option a whole lot more.  
So she got in her uniform and sat at their table, sipping her tea. Technically they weren’t that late, only two minutes, but she found her foot tapping on the floor without even noticing. 

Thirty minutes later, Pansy emerged from her room looking the same as she always did. Hermione had always admired how composed the Slytherins could be. Especially now, after the war. Every hurtful comment was ignored and they carried on as they always did. However, she did think it was sad at how they had all learnt to put on a mask.

“Are you ready to go?” Hermione asked, trying to get her foot to stop tapping. Pansy nodded, grabbing her bag from the back of the door. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. She’ll come back.” She seemed to be trying to convince herself that this was the case, and Hermione hoped for her sake that she was right.  
-

“Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, you’re late.”

Professor McGonagall was not pleased.

“Overslept… alarms…” Hermione muttered, but Pansy took over.

“My apologies, Professor, we were too busy shagging in a cupboard.” she grinned, not looking at all phased. Hermione’s eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks heating up.

Theo stood up from his chair and began slowly clapping, Draco wolf-whistled and Blaise had ducked his head under the table so no one would see that he was laughing. Seamus and Dean were trying to contain their giggles.

The teacher sighed. “Just sit down, I’ll speak to you after the lesson.”

There was never a seating plan in eighth-year classes, so Hermione’s seat at the front was already taken. The only ones available were at the back, next to Draco and Blaise. Hermione, now friends with them, no longer thought that was a bad arrangement.

Besides, she wasn’t exactly pleased with McGonagall for being so submissive about Harry’s problems. It was clear to everyone and their mother that Harry was not just ‘sick’ anymore.

Theo got sent out for standing on his desk and yelling, Neville got sent out for laughing and Blaise got sent out for ‘ _capturing the moment _’ (taking a photo on his camera). Seamus was asleep in the second row, on Dean’s shoulder who was drawing on the table. The eighth years were very chaotic.__

____

Pansy, from beside her, pulled out a pot of nail varnish and whispered, “Can I paint your nails?”

____

Hermione’s heart began beating a little bit faster at the thought of holding contact with the Slytherin for that much time but decided she needed to step out of her comfort zone. The hug that morning hadn’t gone too badly, anyway.

____

She nodded, dropping her quill onto her parchment, inching her hands forward. Pansy unscrewed the lid and began painting. 

____

Hermione was not sure where to look. Trying to face forward looked suspicious since her body was inclined to the right, but if she looked that way she’d be making eye contact. Finally, she decided that she wanted to make eye contact.

____

She’d always stared at Pansy, but never this closely before. Her eyes were several colours at once, mostly brown with hints of green and yellow. They were the most incredible eyes she’d ever seen.

____

Somehow, Pansy managed to keep looking at her while she finished both hands. She was on the last finger when the bell went for their next lesson, which they didn’t have together.

____

“I’ll finish them for you later,” she said, smiling. Hermione found herself smiling back without even thinking about it.

____

However, the smile quickly dropped when she remembered that they still needed to talk to McGonagall.

____

“Girls, I am disappointed. Especially you, Miss Granger, I have never known you to act in that manner.”

____

“My friend has gone _missing _, I was upset and Hermione was comforting me.”__

______ _ _

“I would have understood if you had just told me that, instead of making a crude remark,” she said, staring down the two of them. 

______ _ _

“I don’t think you would’ve understood Professor, seeing how disregarding you were about Harry’s mental health…” Hermione said quietly.

______ _ _

Both heads snapped to hers immediately, one expression annoyed and the other shocked.

______ _ _

“Therapy for one student would be a waste of money, Miss Granger.” McGonagall seemed utterly convinced that she was in the right.

______ _ _

“It wouldn’t just be one student, though. Everyone’s been affected by the war, we’ve all witnessed death, Seamus went blind in one eye for Merlin’s sake.” Hermione knew she had a temper, but usually, she kept in check. Occasionally she’d get mad at Ron and they wouldn’t speak for a while but it had been years since she had last blown off like this.

______ _ _

“I know for a fact that we all get nightmares. People didn’t come back to finish their education because this castle haunts them, so much that it triggers panic attacks and flashbacks and painful memories. I came back for Harry, but otherwise, I planned to never set foot here again. I braced myself to be hurt because that’s what I’m used to. Magic kills people and ruins people’s lives, and it CAN NOT FIX EVERYTHING.”

______ _ _

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, closely followed by a grinning Pansy.

______ _ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it's been so long! quarantine has been really getting me down and schoolwork is stressful. however, it has given me time to come up with ideas, so another update will be out soon!

After she had stormed off out of Transfiguration, Hermione had not gone to her next lesson. Instead, she and Pansy went back to their ‘apartment’ so that Pansy could finish her nails.

“I wanted to become a nail artist when I was younger,” the girl said, adding a jewel to Hermione’s pointer finger, “Before Hogwarts, even. Then my mother told me I couldn’t because as a pureblood I was expected to marry and stay at home caring for children.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “That’s a bit backward, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you could say that. The only thing I thank the war for is getting me out of that situation. Now she just wants me to be happy. Same with Draco, and Blaise. Our mothers just want us to live as best we can.”

“Is there anyone in particular that you want to be happy… with?” she held her breath, hoping that what she had said wasn’t too forward and that she hadn’t read the signs incorrectly.

“I think so,” Pansy replied, looking into her eyes. She leaned forward, just enough for their foreheads to touch. _Closer and closer..._

____

“Hey, fuckers, where’d you get to?” they both jumped at the sound of Blaise’s voice outside the door. 

__

“Hermione went off on McGonagall!” Pansy yelled back, “So we’re bunking now!”

__

“Shit, can I join? I just ran out of Potions. Slughorn won’t give a fuck.”

__

Pansy sighed, “Fine, but you’re not having any food. Where’s Draco?”

__

“He wants to become a healer, remember? So he has to do well in Potions. He says he’ll skip Charms later though.” 

__

Hermione just listened to the conversation, waving her hands a little bit so they’d dry. She couldn’t help feeling bitter that Blaise had arrived just at the moment that she was going to kiss (possibly) someone she'd liked for years.

__

-

__

Blaise stayed around for the next couple of hours, seeming oblivious to what he’d just interrupted. Hermione felt like slapping him over the head but decided that might be slightly too violent.

__

Draco finally arrived, looking tired and pulled Blaise out. Apparently could read a situation.

__

They sat in silence when the boys were gone. Hermione was thinking about what had almost happened, and Pansy undoubtedly was too. It was a strange situation for both of them.

__

A few minutes passed when Hermione decided she’d had enough. “Thank you for doing my nails.”

__

Pansy gave her a quick smile, which was incredibly rare, “No problem. I told you before, your nails are lovely. I hardly needed to do anything.”

__

She stood up from her seat, walking over to their cupboard. She took out some pot noodles and pressed down the kettle. “We’re playing the game tonight.” 

__

Hermione nodded. Blaise had said the night before that he wanted to do it. “Has Blaise been able to make it as big as he wants?” she asked, tapping her fingers on the table. She found the sound it made relaxing.

__

Pansy nodded, pouring some water from the kettle into her noodles. “Yeah, he’s good at that. The seventh-years are party animals, and most of the eighth-years have said they’ll come. Well, besides…”

__

Pansy didn’t need to say his name, Hermione already knew who she was talking about. She found that whenever Harry was brought up, her face would fall of its own accord.  
“...Anyway, nearly everyone’s coming. So I was wondering if you were still down or not.”

__

Hermione raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the fact that she was freaking out inside. The fact that Pansy Parkinson had just asked her _personally _if she wanted to go.__

_____ _

“Why wouldn’t I still be down?” she asked, as Pansy came and sat down again, noodles in hand. The girl practically lived on them.

_____ _

“Your reaction when I told you how they worked seemed a bit panicked.

_____ _

There had been other reasons for that, Hermione wanted to say, but instead, she responded with, “I’m a Gryffindor for a reason. Who’s dorm is it in?”

_____ _

“Blaise and Draco’s. They wanted to do it here but I said he couldn’t in case you said no.”

_____ _

That fluttery feeling was back and Hermione swallowed. “Okay.” 

_____ _

Pansy looked at the clock on the wall. “It starts around six, and it’s four now so…”

_____ _

Hermione sighed. “Would you like to help me get ready?”

_____ _

Pansy winked. She stood up, taking Hermione's hand into her own. “Why, of course!”

_____ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! so, ten days later, here i am. however, i have finally decided on an upload schedule. weekly uploads!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this, and i apologise if the story is moving too slow. i promise it won't be like this for much longer.
> 
> thank you for reading!

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Blaise shouted, holding a glass bottle in the air like a trophy. Cheers went up from around the circle, causing Blaise to grin like a mad man. He seemed to really love this game.

Pansy rolled her eyes from where she sat on Hermione’s right, sipping her drink. “Narcissistic asshole.”

Hermione smiled softly, taking a look around the circle. Pansy had been right about the large turnout. When they had arrived, there’d been a queue out the door. The boys had to make sure everyone had their veritaserum.

“Alright, so you all know the rules or have been told them,” Draco said, looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, “So all I ask is that you try not to break anything. We do have to live here.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Alright, you prat,” he passed the blond the bottle, “Spin it already.”

“Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I say so, now off you go.”  
Draco sighed and placed the bottle in the centre of the circle. He twisted it sharply before letting it go. After a minute, it stopped on Blaise.

“Merlin, spare me.” Draco declared, making everyone laugh.

Blaise grinned, staring at his best friend from the other side of the circle. “Who would you most want to write a love letter to?”

Draco’s face went red, and he put his head in his hands. “You ask me this every time.”

“Because it’s funny to see you admit it. Go on.”

“I haven’t said in front of people who aren’t Slytherins before!”

“That’s the point of the game, asshole.”

“Shut up, bi-”

Pansy sighed, setting her drink down on the carpet. “Boys,” she said, in a way that sounded like she was scolding two children on a playground.

Draco sighed. “Fine. Potter.”

The Slytherins from around the circle smirked at each other, clearly already aware of this information. The Gryffindors- which included Ginny, Dean and Seamus- had varied expressions. Most of them had followed Harry and Draco’s rivalry for years, so it was a shock. Seamus and Dean, who were known to be dating, only looked mildly surprised. Ginny looked like someone had slapped her, but not in a mean, homophobic way. She was dating Luna, after all. Maybe she was just rethinking her past relationship with Harry.

The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all looked normal. Maybe it was because Hufflepuffs were stoned 95% of the time, and Ravenclaws were smart so there’s no way they wouldn’t’ve seen it.

And Hermione? She wasn’t surprised. Draco had always gone out of his way to draw Harry’s attention throughout their years at Hogwarts. Now that she really thought about it, it wasn’t a stretch to see that Harry could’ve reciprocated Draco’s feelings…

She shook her head. Impossible. He would’ve told her. At least the Harry she knew from last year would’ve. Now…

Hermione turned back to the game. Blaise had brought over a piece of parchment and a quill. “Go on, then.”

Draco, now looking unfazed, wrote a quick message and whistled for his owl. She took it flying away.

There was a beat of silence as everyone realised that he had actually just done that. 

Draco sat solemnly before his mouth twitched into a smile and he started laughing. “Every time! Every time, you forget to say that I have to sign it!”

Hermione smiled. Things were making a lot more sense. She remembered from her fourth year, every couple of weeks Harry would get a tawny owl landing on his shoulder with a note. Even she hadn’t gotten far when they’d tried to figure out who it was, and why it said almost the same thing every time.

Blaise slapped his head and groaned. “Fuck! Nevermind, I’ll remember next time.”

“You’ve been saying that for four years, Blaise. Now be a dear and pass the bottle, would you?” Pansy smirked. Blaise gave her the finger but followed through with her request anyway. It appeared there was no actual system in this game. If you wanted to have a turn, you just had to say.

Pansy spun the bottle, which landed on Terry Boot. Hermione wrinkled her nose. Terry was a known asshole who thought it was hot that Ginny was dating Luna now. He’d even reportedly asked if he could watch them, so naturally, Ginny had almost killed him.

Of course, his dare was going to be something sick and offensive. Hermione had to wonder why he had even been invited to play.

“Who do you like the most in this room?” he asked. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “That’s literally identical to what Draco was just asked. Pass.”

“Well… technically, it’s not. No love letter here. And as long as the dare is different…” Blaise said. Pansy gave him a look.

“Blaise.”

Terry gave Pansy an unsettling smile. Even though she wasn’t the reciprocate, Hermione was starting to feel uneasy, like she could sprint out the door and never play the game ever again.

Pansy sighed nonchalantly, though Hermione noticed that she was tapping her fingers on her cup. She wasn’t okay with this, but she’d put on a mask and now she had to act like it. 

“Fine. So, is this a friend thing, or-”

“Romantic.”

“Right.”

This question would’ve been fine if it hadn’t been for the person asking it. Hermione could tell it wasn’t question that was pissing Pansy off, but the possible dare on the other side.

They’d all taken veritaserum, so she couldn’t lie. Pansy took a deep breath.

“Hermione.”

That single word seemed to ripple around the room as it had with Draco. The boys obviously already knew, some of the Slytherin girls didn’t look phased, but the rest of the room…

Hermione felt a little faint. She’d hoped for this obviously; she’d wished for it every time they even did so much as to talk. But for it to actually happen and for her suspicions to actually be confirmed was overwhelming. The dare didn’t help with her anxiety either. Everyone knew Terry was a creep, and he didn’t even have to say it. The look on his face was enough.

Pansy, who Hermione couldn’t even look out without feeling like she might melt, seemed to notice this too. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t be a sick fantasy of yours, Boot.”

Terry cocked his head to the side mockingly. “Never seen you as one to back down to a challenge, Parkinson.”

Before Hermione knew what she was doing, her anger overtook her anxiety and she stood up for the floor. All eyes were on her as she crossed the room, fist clenched. She didn’t think before she punched Terry Boot right in the nose.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry that i've been gone for over a month. especially just after saying 'weekly uploads!!'.  
> i had to take some time for myself as my brain absolutely hates me, and j.k rowling being how she is made me rethink whether it is possible to separate the work from the creator. then i discovered something called the 'death of the author' concept and i'm back! fuck jk rowling!
> 
> this is the end of part one. part two will be about the same length which means it will also have eight chapters. there are many underrated ships in harry potter that don't get enough attention so i plan to try and incorporate more of them in my writing.
> 
> also... BLACK LIVES MATTER, TRANS LIVES MATTER and if you don't agree, i'd rather you get off this page.
> 
> thank you x

The corridors of Hogwarts were long, which was annoying when Hermione needed to get to classes, but helpful when she needed to pace.

She didn’t know what to do. After punching Terry, she’d stormed out of the room, leaving the boy swearing after her. She didn’t regret it at all, but she knew there was no way she was going to be able to face Pansy just yet. She needed to figure out her feelings first. 

She’d always liked Pansy, she knew that. It had started as a strange admiration which developed into something more, the catalyst in Hermione discovering that she liked girls.

Going into the eighth year, the feelings had still been there. They’d grown further with all the time Hermione spent with her, but it scared her. Before it had been okay to like Pansy because she was perfectly out of reach. But now that being with her was a possibility, she wasn’t sure what to do.

She hadn’t realised that she had tears running down her face. In the muggle world, she had to admit that people knowing this secret of hers would’ve been a way bigger deal than in with wizards. With her sexuality and her race, and even her gender, it would’ve been harder for her to be as successful as she wanted to be.

In the wizarding world, things were different. Wizards didn’t care about race or gender. Their issue was blood, which unfortunately Hermione hadn’t lucked out in either. When it came to the genetic lottery, whoever controlled the universe seemed to want to make her life as difficult as possible.

Sexuality was a whole other matter. A staple in magical society was Merlin, who had lots of Welsh myths written about him. Some of the creatures taught about at Hogwarts related to old Greek myths thousands of years ago. So, most magical families followed Paganism, which involved worshipping multiple gods and goddesses. It made sense for their magic to come from somewhere or someone. A divine being, like Hecate.

So, deep down, Hermione knew it may not be a big deal. The ancient Greeks were known to believe that sexuality and gender were fluid. But people like Terry Boot made her uncomfortable with being herself.

She didn’t notice that Pansy had arrived in the corridor, and was watching her pacing from afar. She looked nervous, which was unusual for her. She was always put together and strong. The only time Hermione had seen her facade drop was when Daphne went missing, which had been nearly a week ago.

She stopped, leaning against the wall. She let herself slide down onto the cold stone floor, putting her head in her hands.

“Hey,” she heard Pansy say softly. Footsteps echoed around the corridor as the girl walked over, “Are you okay?”

Hermione took a deep breath, not looking up from the floor. “No.”

Pansy sighed. Hermione could feel her body brushing against her, and it took all of her self control not to scream. Making a decision was difficult when Pansy was right there fuck-

“I’m sorry if what I said upset you. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, so we don’t have to be anything more than friends. I can give you some space if you like.”

At that moment, everything suddenly felt a lot clearer. Have Pansy, or not? Talk to her every day, or never speak at all? Hermione knew what she preferred.

There would always be people like Terry Boot in the world, and there was nothing she could do about that except be herself. With Pansy, that’s all she’d ever been, albeit a bit nervous sometimes. Even when hanging out with Draco and Blaise over the last two weeks, she’d never been anything but honest. She didn’t want that to stop.

She looked up from the floor, still hugging her knees. Pansy looked scared.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hermione said, “It wasn’t you that made me upset. Quite the opposite actually,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “It was Terry.”

Pansy let out a sigh of relief. “Well, he is a prick. You know, as I left Draco was giving him a piece of his mind. I was going to, but I wanted to see where you went.”

The fact that Pansy would step down from a fight to see if she was okay, and even the fact that she’d get into a fight for her in the first place made Hermione feel warm inside. She wanted to feel like this every day.

So fuck Terry Boot and everyone that would hate her when they knew. Fuck them. She couldn’t continue through life without living her truth.

“Can I kiss you?” Hermione whispered.

Pansy stared. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” she repeated. No more being nervous. If Pansy didn’t like her like that then at least she tried. No more hiding.

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Pansy said breathlessly.

And so she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if this is a bit cliche but i think it's cute. part two will be out soon!


End file.
